Genocide Truths
by HaMmYkAnA2014
Summary: Benjamin, the main character, finds a girl on the side of the road and he finds something out. It's not a present-day story, it's based in the 1960s.


There was someone crying in the street. Dirt covering its face. It was wrapped in rags, shivering. Most likely chilled to the bone. By just looking, you couldn't tell it was a girl. She was frightened and alone, and probably older than she looked. I walked up to her and she shied away from my hand. I crouched down so I was face level with her. She didn't look at me; kept her head straight and eyes forward. I wanted to say something, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and she finally looked at me. Hurt, anger, loss and the most distinct emotion of all, sadness were all showing in her bright eyes. She growled at me, a feral. ferocious growl that almost made me take a step back. Almost. "I'm sorry if I startled. you." I said, not knowing what else to say. "Why? You're kind did nothing, didn't feel sorry when it happened," she said, her voice trembling at the end. The tears were still fresh from before, but her shaking had stopped. "Would you mind telling me why you're out here, alone, in the cold?" "Why would you care?" her head snapped forward immediately after she said that. "Because no one should be alone during Thanksgiving," she then looked at me with new tears filling her eyes. I stood up and lent her my hand. She took it hesitantly, and I helped her to stand up. She was thin, way thinner than she needed to be. I was glad I had found her before someone else did, they might not have been so kind. I walked her to my house where there was both laughter and yelling coming from inside. She stopped for a moment, then decided to come up the steps with me and join the party. Everything stopped when I walked through the door with her trailing closely along behind me. She had her rag of a blanket wrapped tightly around her and forced a smile. "Guys, I want you all to meet… Uhmm… What's your name?" I asked gently, not wanting her to be more scared than she already was. "Carinne." "Pretty," I said with a smile. "Guys, this is Carinne and she is going to be spending Thanksgiving with us," I looked at her again, then my mum came up to us; "Benny, dear. Why don't I take her upstairs to change? She's probably about Natalie's size isn't she?" "Yeah, sure mum," I turned to Carinne. "Is that alright with you?" "Yes… but only if you come with me. I mean, I know you can't go into the room…" She stopped, her face redder than a cherry. "You want me to stand outside the door?" I smiled as I asked. She nodded, looking down. "Okay," My mum started walking towards the staircase, I did too, but I stopped to hold my hand out for Carinne. She took it, more quickly this time than before. We walked slowly up the stairs to my sister Natalie's room. She slowly walked in behind my mother, the door closing behind her leaving me standing there, waiting. Finally, Carinne and my mum came out of the room and you could tell that mum had done an amazing job. Carinne had taken a shower, her hair looked soft and her face wa clean. She was wearing a pair of Nat's nicer jeans and the shirt that mum had just bought her for her birthday that Nat had only worn once. It looked absolutely amazing on Carinne, the bright blue accented her tan skin tone and brought out the green in her eyes. Her long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The dark eyeshadow that my mum used really made you notice how big her eyes really were. As I was off in my own little world, thinking about how beautiful she looked, I finally heard my mother yell my name. "Benjamin!" "What?" I asked, turning, sadly, away from Carinne to look at my mom. She just looked at me, hands on her hips. "Whaat?!" I asked again. "Quit ogling our guest and take her downstairs," "Okay, mum." "Don't forget to introduce her to everyone!" Mum called behind her as she was running down the stairs to check on the turkey. I looked back at Carinne and smiled. "You look beautiful," she blushed. "Thank you." I smiled again. "Ready?" "Not really; let's go!" she grabbed my arm and I led her down the steps and into our living room. As soon as we walked in, all other conversations stopped. Every pair of eyes were on us, She got closer to me, trying to hide behind my broad shoulders. "C'mon guys, quit staring! You're making her nervous," and, of course, my younger sister, Natalie, came up and introduced herself. "Hi! My name's Natalie, but you can call me Nat, everyone else does. Well, except mom," Carinne just stared. "Hi," she replied quietly. I took her hand in mine again and went to go introduce her to the rest of my huge, crazy family. After introductions were over I went and sat down on the only empty couch. Without knowing what to do, Carinne followed and sat down next to me. Everyone was chatting quietly, when my mom yelled; "Dinner's ready!" We all started filing out of living room, everyone loved mum's cooking. Especially around Thanksgiving, she pulls out all the stops. We all sat down, waiting for dad to bring out the turkey, that's when things got serious. Michelle, my older sister, who's never learned to be serious, decided to crack a very inappropriate joke. "So, Benji. Where'd you find this one? On the side of the road?" she started laughing hysterically at her own joke, but she soon stopped after she realized no one else was laughing. "Did I say something wrong?" Mum was glaring and Carinne was looking down. "When don't you say something wrong?" Nat yelled at her. Her eyes got really big and her head went down. I looked over at Carinne and rubbed her shoulder. They were shaking. "Are you okay?" Her hands went up to her face and her shoulders started to shake even more. I got out of my chair and pulled her into my arms. She wrapped her arms around me. Everyone was quiet, even dad. When he brought the turkey out and set it on the table, Carinne didn't even notice. We stood there for a good three to five minutes, everyone quiet while Carinne was letting everything out. When she was done she looked up at me, her cheeks were getting brighter the longer she looked at me. I brought my hand closer to her face and wiped away her tears with my thumb. She looked down and slowly sank back down to her chair. I followed suit, and just looked at her. She looked just like she had when I first went up to her. Her eyes were ablaze with fear, sorrow, anger and hatred. I reached out and grabbed her hand, she looked up at me and I asked her the question that I knew had to be on everyone's mind. "Carinne? What happened to you?" She just stared. Her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to tell us, but didn't know how to start. "Take your time, sweetheart. We have nowhere to go," my mum spoke softly. Carinne smiled a very small smile, no real emotion behind it. She took a deep breath and started her story by rolling up the sleeve of her left arm. "It all started around 1940, I was 16. My parents didn't want to believe it. Hell, no one did. To them it was impossible that the Germans, our neighbors, were turning against their own friends and family, co-workers, killing them or sending us off somewhere because we looked different. We weren't 'perfect'," she quoted the air around perfect. "My mother, was the first one to die. She got murdered in a train car on its way to Auschwitz Two…" she paused, taking a moment of silence for her mother. "The train ride felt so long, heading from Buna, which I guess was another part of Auschwitz… Oh, well. Buna wasn't as bad as Auschwitz Two, which was called Birkenau at the time. The other passengers in the car with us, they were our friends, our neighbors, one of them was our priest. Some German worker walking past our car as we were stopped at a station, threw some bread in and everyone went wild. Diving after the piece of bread like they were savage beasts who hadn't eaten in days. Which, sadly, is exactly how we were treated and the longer they treated us like animals, the more we believed them and acted like animals. My mother was trying to get out of the way of the fight, but some lunatic accused her of having the bread. It was freezing and they ripped her clothes off of her, trying to find the bread that she didn't have. Her clothes got thrown God knows where, and there were so many people packed into our train car we couldn't look for them. That night, it got even colder," she choked up a little, I grabbed her hand. She squeezed it. "With nothing but father's spare blanket, which was shabby and thin, she froze to death, in my arms, making me promise to not leave my father alone, no matter what. And I didn't. I stayed with him through everything, even when he told me to leave. I never told him about mom's promise, not even when he was on his death bed. He smiled at me, and with his last breath he told me; "I love you. You're just like her, you're mother. Stubborn as a mule." and then he was gone… the smile was still on his face. That was in 1946," she smiled, just a small, sad smile, but a smile all the same. "But, what happened during the 6 years before your father died?" Nat asked quietly. Carinne looked up and just stared at her. "A lot happened. Birkenau was 'Work or Die' camp and I was one of the 'lucky' few women that were able to stay and work." "What happened to the unfortunate women?" Nat asked. "Natalie!" mum scolded. "What?!" "No, no, it's a good question, especially if you've never heard about this…" Carinne said. "You won't like the answer, though. It was every woman and child usually. They either got sent to the crematorium or gas chamber," she said this part quietly, but loud enough so everyone could hear her. Nat, mum and Michelle all gasped. "It was horrible. You could never get the smell of burning flesh or ever get the screams out of your head. Children crying for their mothers and fathers, babies screaming at the top of their lungs, and then there were the screams of pain and terror. One of the children was my little brother. He was only a year younger than me. He was smarter than all of us though, he put it all together, that they were coming for us Jews. He had put it all together just in time for them to come to our town and take us. They wouldn't believe him that he was 15, looked too young is what they said. He wasn't tall or big enough. He was sent to the right side, begging them to believe him. They obviously didn't." "How come we didn't know about this?" my mum asked. "Not a lot of people did know… and that was the way the Nazi's wanted it. There were camps, almost right outside of towns, and the people said they just didn't think anything of it. They thought it was like a jail or prison facility. Yeah, right. The Nazi generals had connections high up in the German government system. They also had contacts who could pull strings, as well as themselves, to make anyone do what they wanted," she stopped, took a deep breath and sighed. She looked over at her arm and ran a finger over the numbers branded there. I knew there was more to the story, but this must be the part about what happened to her. Her personal experience. I wouldn't want her to jump right in and tell it either. "What happened to me… I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even the evil, disgusting people who did it to me. It was horrible. I would fall for it each and every time! I always got told it was something important or something about my father. Yeah, taking advantage of a young, teenage girl is soo important. One night, though, a boy came to my rescue. he got hanged for saving me, but I owed him my life. The man that came that night was most likely crazy because he kept saying that it was the end, that he was the last one. He'd pulled a knife out and was about to do something serious, but fortunately he was interrupted and was only able to do this," she stood up and lifter her shirt up on the left side, and there, all the way down her side, was a jagged scar. Everyone's eyes must have widened significantly because she kind of laughed, but it didn't last very long. "The molestation had been going on for years. If that boy hadn't walked in and stopped him, this," she pointed at her scar. "This could be a lot worse. After it was all said and done, in 1944, when the Americans finally found us, me and father couldn't go home. There was nothing to go back to. We luckily found a two-room apartment here in town, but when he died I couldn't find a job, and then I got kicked out. The apartment got rented out to someone else and I've been out there sitting. Going to the soup kitchen for food. I don't really like the shelters, they remind me too much of the camps. Crowded adn the smell, dirt men and alcohol. That little spot was mine." "Was?" Nat and I asked at the same time. We looked at each other then back at Carinne. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Your mom said it was okay if I stayed here until I get my own place," she looked up down, her face a bright red. I smiled at mom and put my hand Carinne's shoulder. "We're glad to have you here," she looked up at me and smiled the biggest smile I'd ever seen. Nat laughed and hugged mom, who was crying, and so was dad, actually. "Hey, dad. You alright?" he jumped when I said his name and I laughed a little. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said, sniffling. He grabbed his napkin and dabbed his eyes with it. Michelle laughed and mom smiled. After that we all gathered food onto our plates, Michelle said grace, and we all had an amazing night with Carinne. She's kept in touch with me and she always that that night was one of the best nights she can remember. Which makes mom and dad happy, and me too. Because that was the the night that I fell in love with Carinne Cohen. 


End file.
